Doll House
by EveDuncan2
Summary: I was a toy. We all were here. Collected for our pretty faces and petite statures to provide sick entertainment for the man in black.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

**Good Doll**

I was a good doll. I played my part well, letting the man in black brush my hair, dress me, and do whatever else he pleased.

I knew better than to defy him.

I'd been here for... my whole life. In my pretty room, in the pretty palace, where my pretty self was prevented from going outside in case I got hurt and marred my pale skin.

I was not allowed mirrors in my pretty dark palace, only the man in black ever gets to look upon my face.

I was only allowed to walk when the blind maids weren't around to carry me places, in order to keep my legs from becoming strong.

Everything I held had to be five pounds or lighter so now manly muscles would disfigure my twig like arms.

These were the main rules in the dark palace. If you couldn't follow these, then you were thrown away, like all broken toys.

But I was a good doll. I played my part well, letting the...


	2. A Boy

**Chapter One**

**A Boy**

Forty-three... forty-four... forty-five...

I continued to brush out my blonde curls a hundred times, just like the man in black requested.

I did this in silence, for dolls never spoke unless ordered.

Which was why it shocked me to hear this as I reached sixty-seven.

"Let me go! I want Takashi! Argh, you bastards!" A high, yet definitely male voice yelled in the hall and I stifled a gasp.

Bastard? I'd never hear that word before. It didn't sound particularly positive, I had to admit.

I hesitantly stood up, setting the hairbrush down on the dresser as I stood up. I paused for a few more seconds, but when I heard another enraged shout, I tiptoed towards the door and opened it a crack.

"You can't do this, my family's powerful! _I'm_ powerful! I'll kill everyone in this hell hole if its the last thing I do, dammit!"

Kill? Hell? Dammit? This stranger must be from somewhere else, because these words were utterly alien to me.

I tentatively stuck my head through the open door and gasped. It _was _a male! A boy, really. And a... _cute_ one too.

My face warmed at the thought and a small squeak escaped my lips as his light brown eyes met mine.

"You!" He addressed me and my eyes widened, "Help me! Get me out-!"

I could no longer hear his voice as the blind maids forced him into the room at the end of the hall, the one the man in black had told me specifically never to go in.

I crossed my arms and jutted out my lower lip. How come he got to go in the room? Was it a boys only kinda thing? Because that didn't sound very fair- Oh!

"Why are you out of you room?" The man in black's low voice met my ears before I saw him and the shock of it made me jump.

"I'm sorry." I whispered meekly, staring down at my shoes, "I heard yelling."

His shadow loomed over me and I tried to make myself appear smaller as I sensed his anger.

"Did he see you?"

"Yes." I breathed, cringing.

Right when I was sure he was going to lose it, he sighed.

"Well, the damage is done."

I looked up, a small relieved smile on my face. He returned it with one of his own.

"Did you finish brushing your hair?" He questioned, putting his hand on my lower back and guiding me all the way back into my room.

"No." I answered and he seemed pleased.

"Then allow me." He said and sat me down on a stool.

"One... Two..." We started together, me relaxing at the brush's soothing touch.

**AN; If you can guess who the new member of the Fuck Up Family is, you get a virtual cookie! And, no, its not that dark yet, but, trust me, if you've read some of my other deranged fics, you know this is going to get much, MUCH, **_**MUCH**_** worse. Reviews will encourage my crazy creativity so get-a-typin!**


	3. First Blood

**Chapter Two**

**First Blood**

The man in black was in a wonderful mood today! Sweet, lyrical notes met my ears as my eyes blinked open.

He only ever played music when something exceptionally good was about to happen. Last time I heard music, I got to meet someone who he called his sister.

She was a lovely lady and had insisted on joining me for tea. She had told stories of a world outside the mansion's walls, full of dangers and risks that had both terrified and thrilled me.

I sat up in bed and saw a blind maid turn her head toward me.

"Where would you like to go, miss?" She asked, her voice scratchy and hoarse.

Her eyelids, that had thick stitches keeping them permanently shut twitched when I didn't reply immediately.

I bit my lip lightly, "May I go downstairs? I'm a bit thirsty."

She nodded, her face expressionless as always, "Of coarse."

"Thank you." I breathed as she picked me up, bridal style.

She nodded curtly and brought me out of the room, into the hallway. Where a harsh banging on one of the doors shocked her enough that she _dropped_ me.

I let out a shocked scream as a wave of agony shot up the arm I had landed on.

The music came to an abrupt stop as thick tears spilled down my cheeks, another bang echoing through the hallway.

"What the hell?!" I heard the man in black roar as I rolled off my injured arm.

"I-it was an accident!" The blind maid stuttered as I tried to stifle my whimpers, "The prisoner, he's making noises- It surprised me! Please, sir!"

"Shut up!" He barked, and I flinched even though it wasn't directed at me, "How bad does it hurt?!"

I remained silent for a moment until I realized he was asking _me_, "I- everything feels _bad._"

I sniffled as I attempted to move the aching limb, only to have another wave of pain to shoot up my elbow.

He snarled something I couldn't decipher and diligently picked me up.

"Consider yourself better off dead, Vicky." He growled, "Take her away!"

Two burly maids appeared and dragged _Vicky_ off, kicking and screaming.

"Are you alright, Bubbles?" He whispered, his voice shaking slightly.

Bubbles? What were those?

Before I could ask him that, I caught a glimpse of the floor and saw a red puddle beneath me.

Blood.

I passed out at the nauseating sight before I could understand much else.


End file.
